Parachute
by FutureMrsStabler
Summary: It hurts him to see Wilson fall...but for House, sometimes being there to catch him is even more painful.


_**House, MD**_** is the property of David Shore, Bad Hat Harry Productions, Heel and Toe Productions, and NBC Universal. I claim no ownership to any parts or characters.**

**A/N: No worries, my current story is still in progress. I've just been out of town for so long and my muse has been threatening to die. I had to get this out just to get back some of my sanity.**

**Anyone familiar with the work of fellow author and **_**House**_** fan ****Hilson**** might recognize one of her original characters being borrowed for this story. She has given me full consent to do so and I strongly give her praise and thanks for it. She is awesome. **

**House/Wilson established relationship. I apologize in advance for what I am about to do (gulp)…please don't kill me. = ]**

Wilson rolled over lazily and stretched out into House's spot of the bed. He curled his legs under the covers, sprawling his entire frame contentedly over the bed like a large cat sunning itself.

House looked over from where he was sitting at the foot of the bed putting on his shoes. He shot a mock glare when Wilson gave him a sleepy, smug smile.

"That's okay," House said with false intimidation in his voice. "Go ahead. Lounge around this morning instead of bringing your lazy ass in to work." He raised an eyebrow theatrically. "Let's see you keep smiling after you're done with the dentist. I'll bet you have so many cavities that they'll wire your mouth shut."

Wilson just continued to grin cheekily. He had only had two cavities in his entire life, in his baby teeth at that, and they both knew it. House imitated the expression back at him as he stomped his sneakered feet back onto the ground to jam his feet all the way inside.

Snow White lifted her head alertly at the noise from where she lay in her basket next to Wilson's side of the bed. The small dog yawned and began sniffing at the floor.

The older man looked over at the basket and scowled. He glowered towards Wilson again. "Lazy mutt," he griped. Neither his expression nor his tone had any real malice, just teasing. "You've ruined her. She's supposed to be a vicious **attack** dog." He glanced back to the animal. "How am I supposed to train her to annihilate on command now?"

The dog just looked at him with perceived boredom, as if knowing that she had it made. Because she **did**. The very day she had been brought into their home Wilson had made him pile up three large pillows on top of her bed and then a soft blanket, effectively making the cushioning spill out all the way to the floor and hiding the basket from view.

_Hmmph_, House thought indignantly, _he never makes any effort to make __**me**__ that comfortable. _

He scowled over at Wilson with as much dramatic scorn as he could muster. Then he rolled his eyes when he saw that the other man was looking down toward the floor with an expression of silly adoration, not even noticing his efforts.

Wilson let out a high-pitched, drawn out gasp. "**Snow!**" His voice had assumed the customary loving falsetto he always used when addressing the dog. He shook his head in amazement as he spoke to her with devoted focus. "Did you **hear** that?"

Snow White began to pant happily at the sound of his voice, her tail swishing like a miniature wind tunnel. She was on her feet in seconds and jumped up onto the bed to scurry over to him.

It was no secret that Snow White worshipped Wilson. No wonder, considering how the man showered her with attention practically 24/7. House had thought that Wilson had turned into a mush bucket after **they'd** become serious? _Ha! _That was laughable compared to the blubbering moron he became around that furball. It was almost sickening.

And if the almost constant giddiness and affection around Wilson was any indication, Snow White certainly seemed to reciprocate the feeling. She had never been very partial of House (considering how many stare-downs the two had initiated, the seemingly non-existent tolerance he had with her stealing Wilson's attention when **he** wanted it, and the gleeful way he forced her to play "dizzy dog", a game he had proudly invented that entailed holding her down on the kitchen floor like a dust mop and twirling her around at an insane speed, when Wilson wasn't around) but it was easy to see that she **loved **Wilson.

He could relate. They may not have bonded and almost certainly would never prefer each other's company, but he knew that was why he and Snow White grudgingly tolerated each other.

He hid his smile by turning his head away and getting to his feet.

Wilson had flopped onto his back, his head almost reaching to where House had been. He was smiling goofily up at Snow White. She was on his chest, panting happily and wagging her tail as he stroked her belly.

"Don't you listen to mean old House," Wilson went on. He petted her head and rubbed her ears. "You're not a mutt, are you? **No**."

His voice was getting more ridiculous just for House's benefit. The older man teased him constantly because of how he babied her and complained every time he was heard swooning to her.

"No," he continued. "You're not a mutt. You're a beautiful girl. You're **my** beautiful girl, aren't you? Yes, you are." He pursed his lips as if blowing a kiss and lifted his head. Snow White immediately began slathering his face with her tongue. Wilson sputtered dramatically, wrinkling his nose at her teasingly. "You're a silly girl, yes you are."

He rubbed over her body with more vigor. She yipped excitedly both from the touching and his voice. He began kissing her noisily, over and over on her head, and laughed when she attacked his face with her tongue again every time he moved toward her.

"**Please," **House deadpanned in disgust. "I think I'm getting sick."

Wilson tilted his head back. His face was split into a wide grin as he rolled his eyes up to locate the source of the voice. House pretended that the sight of Wilson hanging partly upside down off of the end of the bed, hair puffed and smiling up at him, wasn't completely adorable. He just shook his head.

"I'm out of here," he said, coming towards the bed. "See you later." He pursed his lips and glared teasingly at Snow White as he bent down slightly over the other man's upside down face. He captured Wilson's lips in a tender kiss goodbye, running his thumb over one cheekbone when he pulled away. "I love you."

Wilson hummed contentedly and looked back up at him with sparkles lighting up his eyes. "Love you too," he replied warmly.

House straightened back up, eyed the dog for a moment, and then exhaled somewhat reluctantly. He dropped his hand down onto her head and gave it a few slow strokes. Snow White sat still on Wilson's chest for a minute but then began wagging her tail.

Wilson smiled merrily when House met his eyes again. The older man shook his head, trying to hide a telltale softness in his face that Wilson could see as clearly as day anyway. He dropped another quick kiss onto Wilson's face and strode out of the room.

Snow White resumed panting comfortably. Wilson grinned up at her.

"Told you," he said to her knowingly, rubbing over her ears once more. "He can't hide it from us, huh? Just a big old softie, that's all he is."

He lifted his head to look over at the clock radio and sighed.

"Come on, Snow," he said, slowly sitting up so that she wouldn't fall. "Time to get ready for my trip to the electric chair."

He grimaced at the thought and slid over to put his feet on the floor. Snow White jumped down, circling his feet and yipping softly. Wilson chuckled.

"You mind if I pee first?" he asked her sardonically. "Can you hold it for that long?"

She began dancing up on her hind legs. He groaned, knowing what that meant. The dog only did that when she needed to go outside **badly**. He shook his head and sighed.

"Fine," he said. He changed direction, heading for the kitchen to get her leash. "Guess that's a no, then?"  
______________________________________________________________________________

House was frustrated enough to almost bang his head against the whiteboard. He settled for gripping the edge of the easel tightly and squeezing.

"**Think**, people!" he said irritably. He tapped the end of the dry-erase marker against the flat surface, voicing random thoughts as they whirled in crazy circles in his brain trying to make some connection. "Fever, blood in the urine and stool, pain in the groin…but no kidney stones. Tests for bladder infection, inflammatory bowel, appendicitis, and prostatitis all negative."

He grunted angrily and turned around to face his team.

"What are we **missing** here?" he asked, the marker waving like a baton. "There has to be something! Start diagnosing, come on." He waved his hand impatiently. "I don't care what you come up with anymore, say sexsomnia for all I care. Just do something to let me know your brains haven't slid out of your nose in the last five minutes!"

He glared at them when they didn't immediately respond. Kutner and Hadley glanced at each other somewhat nervously.

"Autoimmune disease," Hadley said threw in quickly without really thinking. Foreman looked at her with slight disdain and she shrugged a little toward him in a _what can you do?_ kind of fashion. "Maybe his immune system was underdeveloped as a child and it was never dealt with."

House considered her for a moment, but turned back and wrote it down on the board.

"Might be pancreatitis," Taub volunteered as he had his back turned. "Is he an alcoholic? That could explain the pain in the groin area…it could've spread to the upper abdomen. Or gallstones."

House was writing quickly as the man spoke, more ideas already flowing now that the process had been re-awakened. The phone rang in his office and he glanced over as the pen squeaked on the board. When it didn't stop after three rings, he growled in irritation.

"Keep going," he ordered, still holding the marker. He walked across the room toward the office. "Don't stop now."

He heard Kutner add something to the conversation as he reached his desk. The phone was **still** ringing. He looked at the caller ID and scowled when he saw UNKNOWN NUMBER on the screen. He clicked his tongue and picked up the receiver.

"Look, this isn't-" he began to say.

"Come home," the voice on the other end begged tearfully, cutting him off. House was stunned into silence at Wilson's hysterical tone. "I need you to come home."

His stomach knotted up with fear. The case flew right out of his mind as he gripped the phone hard, his heart starting to hammer. Hearing Wilson sound like that made him want to puke.

"What's wrong?" he asked fiercely, trying not to let panic overtake him. It was a struggle. "Wilson, **tell me**."

He glanced at the screen as he spoke, noting the time. Wilson should have been at the dentist. It made sense then why the number wouldn't come up. Their house number was unlisted.

"Come back," Wilson choked out again. His voice was almost unrecognizable. "I need you. Please, House. I need you." The words broke off into heaving sobs.

House didn't think twice. "I'm on my way," he said immediately. He was already reaching for his keys lying near the computer. "I'll be right there, Wilson."

For a long, agonizing moment there was no reply. House felt his heart stop. His mind was busy conjuring up terrifying scenes of what could possibly be happening at his home at that very moment.

"Okay," Wilson finally said in a shaky whisper.

He dropped the phone and hurried around his desk to grab his jacket off of the back of the chair. He pulled it on as he strode back through to the conference room.

"Two possibilities seem the most likely." Hadley turned in her chair to look at him the minute he came in. "Severe-"

"I've got to go," he interrupted firmly. She cut off and looked at him, startled. The others wore similar expressions. House didn't spare them a glance as he pulled his cell phone from his back pocket, checking the screen. "Foreman, you're in charge until further notice. Try not to screw anything up."

He was out the door before anyone could finish asking any questions, strides twice as long as normal. The team watched him go in astonishment and then looked around at each other incredulously.

______________________________________________________________________________

The woman stepped back toward the open rear door of her SUV again to check on her infant son still sleeping peacefully in the car seat and then returned back out toward the street. She kept swallowing fruitlessly trying to staunch the tears streaming down her face but it didn't help.

She attempted to say something again but couldn't get any sound past the lump spread inside her entire esophagus as she looked back at the man a few feet away.

Wilson was sitting next to the curb of the apartment building, right on his butt in the street. Snow White was cradled in his lap and he was stroking her head, trying to speak soothingly to her through the tears he couldn't hold in.

The sound of a zoom coming down the street towards them made the woman jump. Wilson's head flew up immediately and he scrambled to his feet. She whipped around in surprise and watched as a jean-clad man screeched an orange motorcycle to a stop almost right beside her. He tore the helmet off of his head quickly to reveal a slightly haggard expression, eyes scanning the scene in a frenzy.

It had been easy to see that something had happened involving the red Tahoe that was pulled haphazardly toward the curb like it had slammed on brakes. House had felt his heart stutter at the sight of Wilson on the ground, immediately fearing that the other man was hurt, and was so relieved when he saw Wilson get up without effort that it made him slightly dizzy.

But the feeling evaporated instantly when Wilson began running towards him, face stricken and wet. The moment he realized that Wilson was holding Snow White, he knew what had happened. He knew it with sickening certainty.

_Shit. Oh, shit._

Wilson was gasping like he had just run a marathon. "It's her legs," he said before he even came to a halt. He gulped in air over and over as he spoke. "Help me set her legs, House, we've got to set them **now**!"

House gulped too, albeit silently. He was already assessing the dog's condition and just from what he could see of it made his stomach clench. He wasn't an animal specialist by any means but it was horribly easy to recognize the problem.

It wasn't her legs. They back ones were suddenly unaligned with the rest of the pelvis making it look like they were broken. But they weren't.

They looked that way because her hipbone had been shattered.

"We have to get her to the vet, Wilson," House said urgently. "Hang on. I'm going to get my car."

He rolled the bike back a few steps so that he would have room to angle back out toward the street and gunned the ignition. The motorcycle took off toward the apartment a few yards away. He didn't even take time to put his helmet back on.

______________________________________________________________________________

The sinking feeling in his stomach didn't dissipate as House drove. It just got worse every time he stole a glance beside him.

Snow White was laid across Wilson's lap and he was stroking across her belly in a slow, even pattern. Her head was resting motionlessly on his knee. She was hardly even panting; she just laid there blinking.

House could hear the other man speaking softly to her. He knew inwardly that Wilson was trying to reassure both the dog and himself even despite the fact that he couldn't make out what Wilson was saying. He also knew that Wilson was fighting tears without having to look at him.

He didn't ask Wilson what had happened. He didn't try to say anything at all. He just tried to drive as quickly as possible.

But nothing could stop the horrible sensation of dread pooling inside. He would never voice it, certainly not, but House spent the entire trip silently building up inner strength for when Wilson would need him to take over.

Because somehow he had a feeling of what was about to come of this. Somehow he just…_knew_ and it wasn't going to be good.

______________________________________________________________________________

Wilson was pushing the car door open before House could pull all the way into the parking space. He flew down the sidewalk toward the entrance as soon as his feet hit the ground.

House shifted quickly into park and reached up to jam the handicap tag around the rearview mirror. He heaved himself out of the car as fast as he could to hurry after Wilson.

Wilson yanked the office door open and rushed inside, not noticing or caring about the abrupt slam of his entrance or the crowded waiting room that collectively turned to stare at once.

The woman sitting behind the receptionist's glass looked startled when he appeared in front of her. He looked at her desperately, trying to speak, to beg for a doctor. But the huge lump in his throat made it impossible to speak.

The receptionist was taking in the sight in front of her with a fast eye while two others in bright scrub tops appeared behind the desk, looking concerned. He couldn't get his voice box to open no matter how hard he tried.

The nurses were trying to get information from him but he couldn't understand what they were saying. Blood was pounding in his ears making it difficult. He was wasting time. They needed a doctor _now_ and he was keeping it from happening because he couldn't get his voice to work.

He cradled Snow White closer to his chest as tears invaded his chest and climbed up his throat. He bit his lip, feeling them welling in his eyes.

Then suddenly there was a steadying hand anchoring his shoulder and a strong voice taking over. He swallowed in relief.

"The name is under House," the other man said. "We need to get the doctor immediately, her hipbones are broken."

The woman picked up the phone receiver. "Hold on," she said reassuringly. She was looking more at Wilson as she dialed. "I'm getting the emergency care doctor."

His breath shuddered when he exhaled and inhaled deeply, trying to stay in control. He felt House behind him squeezing his shoulders gently.

A nurse appeared beside the desk immediately and gestured to them from behind the glass. "Come in," she said.

The two men walked over the few steps to the door. It opened from inside and the nurse held it open. "We're going to go straight down the hall," she went on, leaning against the door to let them pass her.

House placed a hand lightly on Wilson's back to guide him gently through ahead of him. The woman remained on the door to keep it open as another nurse came past her out into the waiting room to call the name of another patient.

______________________________________________________________________________

The doctor met them at the exam room. House gave an inward sight of relief that wouldn't have to wait. He could tell that Wilson was barely holding it together and he honestly didn't know how.

He saw the doctor staring at them in as they came in. The man was older, probably in his sixties, and House saw the slight change in his expression as he put together the pieces about their relationship. Fortunately for him, though, he met House's eyes instead of Wilson's.

House gave the man a fierce stare of warning. God help him if that doctor said anything about it. The **last **thing he was going to do was let anything happen to upset Wilson even more

It surprised him when House saw a look of unquestioning compassion in the older man's eyes. The doctor stared back at him reassuringly as if trying to prove that he really wasn't intending to make a big deal out of the situation. But House didn't let it show. He just allowed himself to give the man a short nod of acknowledgement and grudging thanks.

"Alright," the doctor said kindly. "Let's lay her down on the table here…"

Wilson was eyeing the doctor hesitantly, his arms still curled protectively around the dog, and the older man nodded gently in encouragement. Once he had laid her gently down, the veterinarian began to gently probe around Snow White's back.

Wilson kept his hands resting softly on her head and stomach to comfort her as the doctor felt around. The dog wasn't giving any outward signs of pain or distress but he did it anyway.

House stood a few feet away behind him and looked on silently. The worry in his eyes was clear and it wasn't for the dog.

The doctor knew that. He remained bowed over the dog's small body for a few tense moments before looking up. He made sure that he made contact with House's eyes without giving the chance for Wilson to catch his.

House felt his stomach lurch when he saw the look in the man's eyes. A feeling of pure agony washed over him as he lowered his in acknowledgement.

Whether the doctor was horribly bad at being discreet or maybe just thought he was an idiot, it didn't matter. Wilson noticed right away when the vet deliberately avoided looking at him and stared straight at House instead.

"What?" he asked quickly. When the vet didn't meet his eyes right away, he turned to look at House behind him. But House wouldn't look at him either and seemed suddenly fascinated with looking at his shoes. He put more force behind his voice to warn House that he wasn't going to tolerate messing around. "**What?**"

When House did finally look at him, the badly concealed expression of pain was evident. He felt his heart start to hammer as he turned back quickly to stare at the vet again.

The older man gazed at him with a soft expression. "How did it happen?" he asked gently.

He immediately felt the tears spring to his eyes and struggled to keep them down.

______________________________________________________________________________

Wilson was trying to stop his voice from shaking as the doctor carefully dragged the story out of him.

He had been getting ready to take Snow White outside. The leash was in his hand. He hadn't hooked it on to her collar yet. He had opened the front door just a bit while leaning down to attach the leash.

The phone had rung. He had looked over toward it out of instinct as the same time that Snow White had seen something outside.

She had taken off out the door and across the yard before he knew it. He had seen the SVU coming as she darted into the street.

The driver had tried to swerve but couldn't brake quick enough to avoid hitting her.

Wilson was focusing straight ahead at the wall behind the doctor's head and didn't look his way at all while speaking. House felt like his heart was being torn out.

_Wilson. Oh, Wilson. _

Hearing him struggling to hide the crack in his voice, the veterinarian cut in gently. "Ok," he said with a nod. "Thank you."

Wilson went silent and breathed out of his nose, looking back at Snow White. House took in a breath almost simultaneously. The doctor looked at him with regret on his face. He closed his eyes for a moment and then gave the man a slow, pained nod.

He quietly stepped up closer to Wilson's side when the doctor carefully scooped up the dog. He didn't have to look at his face to see the expression of anxious confusion Wilson gave the man as he transferred Snow White back into his arms.

The vet looked at House again resignedly and then Wilson. "Judging by the range of the injuries, her right side is impacted more severely than her left. There are clean breaks in both the right femur and rotula." The man's lips tightened sympathetically. "The force of the impact snapped the lumbar vertebrae from the pelvis, which in turn also dislocated the thoracic vertebrae."

There was a minute of heavy silence. House could feel shock radiating off of Wilson

"I…but-" Wilson's voice was so small that it hurt. House swallowed as anguish hit him again and squeezed the other man's shoulder tenderly. "So how do you fix it? Does she need to go to a specialist?"

The veterinarian's face softened even more with sorrow.

"Gentleman, I am so very sorry," he said. "Her back has been paralyzed. Unfortunately, there is nothing anyone can do to fix it. She is in excruciating pain and it will never go away."

He paused for a moment empathetically.

"I'm sorry," he repeated. "The best thing any of us can do is allow her to end her suffering."

The agonized silence that filled the small exam room seemed to echo off of the walls. House could feel Wilson go completely still under his palm.

"No."

It was spoken as a plea. Wilson's voice was so strained that it barely came out. House inhaled and came up closer behind the younger man's back, stretching his arm across to the other shoulder.

"Wilson," he said softly. He carefully stepped a little bit in front of the other man to face him and squeezed his shoulder. "It's the only thing we can do." His face twisted seeing the expression on Wilson's face. "We can't let her stay in pain."

The other man shook his head desperately looking like his eyes had become dull.

Behind them, the vet cleared his throat quietly. "I'll give you a few minutes," he said.

House listened to the vet leave the room and shut the door gently. He swallowed, raising his hand to Wilson's cheek tenderly. Wilson was clutching Snow White in his arms with a lost expression on his face.

"She deserves not to suffer," he went on delicately. "We love her too much to let that happen."

Wilson said nothing, just dropped his face down toward the dog and stepped slightly away. House watched him sadly but didn't try to move toward him.

He continued to stand in silence until the door opened again and he looked over to see the doctor step back inside quietly. The man laid out a blanket on the side counter and began setting small instruments down onto it.

House sucked in his lip and then slowly approached Wilson. "Let me take care of this," he said quietly. "You should go on outside."

The younger man's grip tightened visibly on the soft white fur. He buried his face in Snow White's neck and his shoulders began trembling. House felt his heart break.

"Wilson," he continued quietly. He reached out to cup Wilson's cheek again. "Look at me, baby."

The epithet was tender and he hoped it would be powerful enough to get the other man's attention. He very rarely said things like that.

It took a moment for Wilson's eyes to finally float up to meet his. There was such great despair in them that they were almost black.

"Let me have her," he said. He slid his arms carefully underneath Wilson's. "You need to let me have her."

Wilson bowed his head again, hiding his eyes from view. He hugged Snow White to him and dropped his face into her fur. Then he slowly allowed House to draw her out of his arms.

He stood still when House took over holding the dog. His head remained tipped toward the ground. Then he quietly walked out of the room.

House inhaled and swallowed, stepping over to the operating table again. He gently laid her down onto it. The veterinarian moved over to the other side.

Not looking at the older man, House swallowed once more and softly stroked Snow White's head. She blinked labouredly. "You're my dog, too," he murmured to her. "I know I don't show it very well, but I do love you. I always will." He stroked her head again. "You're a great dog, Snow White."

He raised his eyes after a moment to look at the vet. The older man regarded him sympathetically and silently requested permission with his eyes. House steadied her head and slowly nodded.

______________________________________________________________________________

The ride home was silent. House glancing periodically over at Wilson as they drove but the younger man was turned away. His expression was blank as he stared out the passenger window.

He didn't move once they arrived. House shut off the ignition and waited uncertainly. Wilson didn't speak. House looked at him sadly but didn't try to say anything either. After a minute, he quietly reached over and unbuckled Wilson's seatbelt.

"Come on," he said gently. "We should go inside."

Wilson stood robotically on the stoop while House dug out his keys. House opened the door for him and then followed him inside, closing the door behind them. Wilson was standing silently in the foyer looking weary. House came and stood awkwardly a few feet away.

The heaviness in the air was too much for House.

"You want some tea?" he ventured softly, desperate to do something to make the look in Wilson's eyes go away.

Wilson didn't respond and then shrugged as if on autopilot. House quickly turned toward the kitchen anyway, anxious to do something with his hands.

"Hey, you know what I was thinking?" he said as he filled the kettle, raising his voice slightly to be heard. He was rapidly running through ideas in his head of ways to make Wilson feel better. "Why don't we take a long weekend and go up to High Point State Park?"

Wilson had been mentioning for weeks that he would love to spend a few days there and House had mocked him rather snidely about it, aching inside because he was ready to drop everything that second to give Wilson what he wanted and hated that his leg wouldn't let him.

He set the kettle on the stove top. "This time of year, I bet we could see **herds **of deer in the mornings," he went on. He moved to turn on the burner and then was struck with an even better thought that made him step back toward the hall. "Maybe-"

His voice cut off abruptly when he poked his head out of the kitchen. Wilson was hunched forward on the couch with his face in his hands, crying. His face twisting into a sad grimace.

He walked into the living room quickly and sat down beside him. "Hey," he murmured. He moved to stretch his arms out. "Wilson-"

He was startled slightly when Wilson uncovered his face and immediately turned to press against him. He wrapped the other man in a tight embrace. His heart felt like it was being stabbed. Wilson sobbed into his shoulder so hard that he had to repeatedly gasp for air. Heartbroken wails slipped out.

The sound of them made House crumble inside. He tucked Wilson's head underneath his chin with a sad sigh into the dark hair.

"I'm here," he murmured. He tenderly rubbed circles around Wilson's back and then stroked through his hair at the back of his head. "I'm right here with you." The worst part of it was that there was nothing he could say to make the situation any better. That killed more than anything else. "I love you so much."

House rocked him back and forth, planting occasional kisses on the side of Wilson's head and face while he cried.

"It's all my fault."

He was surprised to hear Wilson speak. The younger man pulled away slightly and House let him, keeping his arms wrapped tenderly around him.

Wilson looked horrible. His face was splotched and his nose raw, the whites of his eyes bright red as the tears fell. He snuffled and shook his head.

"I should've put the leash on her," he sobbed. "This never would have happened if I had just put the leash on her." The cries built again, making his chest heave, and he broke down once more. His words became barely coherent. "It's all my fault!"

He was slumping as the sobs took hold again and didn't resist House's pulling him close. House shook his head, swallowing hard.

"No," he said. He pressed his hands tightly into Wilson's back. "It's not your fault. It's not your fault, Wilson. It was just an accident."

He received no response. He didn't expect to. He just held Wilson close.

The sobs were being cut off more and more by gasps that the other man couldn't control as his body began tiring out. House rubbed his back tenderly, knowing that Wilson wouldn't be able to fight it for too much longer. He would almost guarantee that Wilson was going to cry himself to sleep right there in his arms without even meaning to.

He sighed and shifted a little to stretch his leg out. He made a mental note to call Cuddy. Wilson definitely wouldn't be coming to work that day.

Neither would he. As far as he was concerned, his most important priority was right there in his arms.


End file.
